Galen picked up the loofah and began to wash himself, unconsciously mirroring the movements he remembered. The loofah snaked down his chest, over his arms, and between his legs. Thick and luxurious, it pushed into his skin, melting into the folds. He brought it down his leg, then up the other, and lingered on his thighs, moving closer and closer to his cock.
Oh, fuck it. Solat might have been a bastard, but he had been a damn good lay. Might as well enjoy the memories.
Galen stroked himself to orgasm, abandoning all pretense of getting clean, and lingered in the shower, swaying contentedly as the hot water washed over him, until his mood soured as he recalled how things had ended between them.
Galen had been the only one who was surprised when Solat left him a few weeks before the wedding. His friends had been supportive, but underneath it, he’d detected a certain smugness in having known it wouldn’t last.
Meanwhile, Solat had disappeared. Galen later discovered he’d been having an affair for almost a year and had run off with a neurosurgical fellow to take a job overseas.
The hospital had been stunned when Galen left a few days later. A brilliant young resident relocating to the states, working as an ER doctor at a hospital for refugees in a backwater country? Important work, to be sure, but boring. Routine. A mediocre medical student could manage it.
The speculation had been rampant. Some said that Galen had rebounded with a handsome young radiologist, others assumed he was biding time until he found a fellowship in the states. Stories flew around from his friends, claims that he was traveling, teaching abroad, was quitting medicine to focus once again on cycling.
The truth was that he’d kept in touch with no one.
The little hospital in Alaska was a wonderful hiding place. There was so much to be done. He’d worked to improve care, train interns, and change policy to take in and help as many refugees as possible. It was exhausting but meaningful work and it had left him little time to think about everything he’d lost.
He’d been devastated when he learned that his mother had been killed in a car wreck in Dublin. By that time, his father was already serving time for illegal genetics research and she was working two jobs to make ends meet. She’d been driving home at 2am when a drunk driver barrelled through a red light. He’d been too late to see her in the hospital and he’d been a quiet and stoic presence at the funeral.
It was good that his father wasn’t given leave to attend the services. Galen hadn’t been sure he’d be able to control his anger, to keep himself from causing a scene. Old friends and colleagues had shown up to offer support, but he’d politely deflected their efforts and disappeared quickly before the questions could begin.
After all, this was his home now, and he was needed.
Except the systems he’d put in place were running smoothly without him. The work was once again routine, and his personal life wasn’t exactly satisfying. He had a small network of friends, but no one close, and he hadn’t dated for three years.
So why am I still here?
If he was honest with himself, Galen knew exactly why he stayed. Navojan. Their friendship was the first intimacy he’d known since Solat left him. The orderly had an impressive grasp of literature and politics and they’d slowly built a close friendship.
He was shocked at how little the discovery of Nav’s true origins had shaken him. UFO sightings had been rampant in the 20th and 21st centuries, and there were conspiracy theorists that blamed the deteriorating climate on alien interference. Of course, Galen didn’t believe that for a second. The state of the world was all on humans, greedy humans with a lack of foresight and an unbelievable talent for denying reality. Still, he’d grown up with enough stories about political sabotage over dwindling resources to be suspicious of spies.
Yet the second he’d seen the pain in Nav’s eyes, the only thing that mattered was that his friend was hurting. Nav, who’d sat across from him every week for years, challenged him, made him laugh, and looked at him with kind, warm eyes. When Galen had held Navojan, comforting him as he sobbed, it was an easy decision to protect him. To keep his secret.
Galen would do whatever it took to keep Nav safe.
Yet he felt a little guilty. Nav had no idea Galen was reading his stories. Nav’s fantasies. Nav had been so open with him. Put his life in Galen’s hands. Shared his biggest fears and heartbreak.
What had Galen shared with Nav? A few book recommendations, some stories of cycling in Ireland, his adventures in medical school. Did Nav even know he had done a surgical residency? Galen didn’t think so. And yet Nav was his closest friend.
What did that say about him?
Stepping out of the shower, Galen glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was already 10am. He fixed himself a cup of coffee, logged into his terminal, and smiled. There was a message from Navojan.
“I wonder if we could we push back our lunch today? I'm still feeling under the weather and plan to spend the day in bed. How about dinner at my apartment at 1900 hours? I'll prepare something interesting and you can give me a follow-up exam. If you’re willing to make a house call, that is.”
A bolt shot through his body as he remembered the previous day’s exam.
A house call just this once would do.
He sighed in pleasure. Cooking dinner for another man screamed date. A date with certain expectations. Excitement coursed through his body at the thought.
Perhaps they could try out some of the scenes from Navojan’s book after dinner. Galen was more than willing to do some hands-on research to help Nav’s burgeoning writing career.
He laughed out loud, imagining his friend’s expression if he suggested just that, and then blushed as he realized how appealing he found the idea. Acting out the last scene in chapter five would be heaven.
Blindfolded
Gabriel feels the flogger
A small sting at first
Then more intense pain.
Impossible to predict when the blows will come
The anticipation is delicious
Majet is patient
Delivering quick blows to Gabriel’s back
And more intense hits to his ass
His thighs
His calves
Working his way back up to Gabriel’s opening
Drawing the strands across it
Letting them fall inside
Majet pulls back
Delivers a light blow
Between Gabriel's thighs
Grazing his balls
He cries out
Shaking uncontrollably-
A light on his terminal flashed and he realized he’d never dismissed the message notification.
Easy there, Galen. Nav is an alien. What does he know about Earth customs and dates? He just enjoys making you squirm. We’ll probably simply have dinner and discuss this week's book.
Oh, fuck. He’d chosen a romance novel, the first in a historical fiction series from the 20th century. As if the evening wouldn’t be awkward enough. Would it be too much like a date?
Should he make an excuse? Fabricate a medical emergency of some sort?
No, he decided. He was overthinking this. He wanted to go. It was far better than eating in an empty apartment. Which was, sadly, his usual routine.
Galen sent a quick message agreeing to dinner and went about his morning regimen, bustling about, tending to the errands and little chores that waited for a rare day off.
Concentrating on anything was impossible. Fantasies came unbidden all day long, and as the hours ticked by, he was practically teeming with anticipation.
But the closer it got to dinner, the more he started to panic.
With only half an hour to go, his room resembled the remnants of a house ravaged by hurricane-strength winds. His closet was empty and clothes were strewn on the bed, the table, the couch, even the floor. He idly wondered if he should prescribe himself a mild sedative.
His scrubs were out, of course. They were comfortable enou
gh that he often donned them on his off time, but this was dinner. Proper etiquette would be to dress up a bit.
Something nice but casual. One of the silky shirts he’d snagged from a street vendor last week?
Nav likes this color on me. Does that matter?
Eventually he eyed a shirt that was cut a bit lower than his daily scrubs. Galen remembered that Milosians considered exposing the neck to be a bit scandalous.
Would Navojan notice? Probably. Do I want him to know I chose it for him?
Galen blushed as he realized the answer was a resounding yes.
The shirt he chose showed off his firm shoulders and he took care to let wisps of his auburn hair fall casually against his neck. The blue, flowing pants showed off his slender frame, soft rounded belly, and lean, tanned legs.
He looked good.
Galen buttoned the shirt, taking care to place the collar just right and eyed himself in the mirror with satisfaction.
There was a spring in his step as he made his way to Navojan’s apartment.
Chapter Four
Navojan answered the door in a blue flowing shirt. The color brought out his eyes and the collar just barely covered the ridge on his neck.
He’d never wear that shirt in public. Too risky. Is the effort for me? Or is it just Nav’s tendency to dress for the occasion?
Galen found himself remembering the sensation of his tongue on those ridges. The urge to trail his fingers over the edges was almost irresistible. It was absurd. He’d done it a thousand time before, but it was always playful. Affectionate. This time, he wanted to mean it.
Galen looked around for something to do, feeling supremely uncomfortable. Where should he sit? Should he help set the table?
He could swear he saw a gleam in Navojan’s eyes, but it was gone in an instant. Was he enjoying Galen’s discomfort?
“Sit, sit, make yourself at home. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”
Nav bustled about, bringing out a serving of American meatloaf with a heaping of brown gravy. Galen had never gotten quite used to the flavor, but his friend insisted it was an acquired taste. Galen smiled inwardly. Nav loved his terran comfort food.
As Navojan arranged the food, his arm brushed lightly against Galen’s chest. It lingered there a moment and his breath quickened.
Galen tried to relax, but each time Navojan came near, his mind snapped back to the steamy scenes in chapter three. It began with a candlelight dinner and two glasses of lavé. Things heated up very quickly after that. He spied a bottle of lavé on the coffee table and flushed. Where had Nav gotten Milosian wine? Had he reprogrammed the food generator? Galen was impressed despite himself.
Nav seemed not to have noticed his edginess at all as he placed a pitcher of water, pear juice, and a pot of kombucha tea on the table. Galen smiled at the thoughtfulness. He loved that blend.
Dinner was pleasant enough, but Galen was too keyed up to enjoy it. It seemed that every time he started to relax, there was an unexpected touch. An arm brushing his as Navojan brought out the next course, a leg bumping his knee as Nav shifted in his seat, a touch on his hand to emphasize a point in conversation. When Navojan leaned over to refill his glass, hot breath tickling his face, he could barely contain himself.
He wanted Nav to whisper in his ear, bring those thin, soft lips to Galen's exposed neck, tear off his shirt, kiss down his body, teasing his nipples until--
“… and I think the new young resident, what’s his name again, needs some help with his people skills. The last time I brought him a patient, he couldn’t stop stammering long enough to take an acceptable history. I tried to help him along but he just shooed me out of the room. Young doctors are so arrogant. If you ask me--”
Galen realized Nav had been talking the whole time. He seemed maddeningly sanguine about the extent of their physical contact and completely unaware of Galen's reactions.
Was Nav toying with him? Teasing? Or simply clueless? If not for the book, he’d be convinced he was completely misreading the situation.
His breathing quickened as he glanced at the bottle of lavé and Nav followed his gaze.
“The lavé is for later. We’re going to need it to discuss the book you chose.”
Galen’s face reddened as he remembered the romance novel he'd recommended.
It was going to be a long night.
* * *
After three glasses of lavé, though, all of Galen’s nerves were gone. Sitting on the couch after dinner, they discussed the book animatedly.
“The critics loved the series. It was #1 on the bestseller list for a time and it was remade into a television show.”
“On Earth. Standards aren’t exactly high for terran literature.”
“Yes, yes, on Earth. Of course, Milosian literature is naturally superior. I suppose you have some samples of Milosian romance novels in your quarters?”
Shit. Why did he say that? Was he trying to provoke Navojan into revealing his secret?
Nav smiled and let the comment pass.
“You seem a little tense. Was it a long shift earlier?” he asked and began to massage Galen’s smooth shoulders.
Galen knew he should pull away, but the warmth from the lavé had spread and he simply closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. He began to relax bit by bit, leaning back against Nav’s firm body.
Nav stroked his neck gently and he bit back a moan. Something about this seemed familiar, but the haze of the lavé was clouding his thoughts.
As Navojan stood up and Galen regained his balance, it dawned on him. The cozy conversation on the couch, the wine, the massage: they were all an exact duplication of the events in the book. Assuming he was correct, the next step would be dessert.
He looked over to see his friend carrying a tray of pastries. His mouth watered and he felt a little woozy. Navojan had generated a selection of his favorite treats.
Setting down the tray, Nav settled back on the couch, idly playing with Galen’s hair. It seemed like he was barely aware of doing it. If this was a seduction, it was well-crafted.
Galen. What else could it be? It was a near mirror of the events in chapter three, though admittedly one of the tamer scenes.
Nav didn’t know that Galen had read it, though. Was it possible that it was unconscious, that he was fulfilling a personal fantasy without realizing it?
Seeing the gleam in his friend’s eyes, he dismissed the thought. Nav knew exactly what he was doing. And Galen had just enough lavé in him to let him.
Navojan insisted on feeding him bites of every pastry and despite his protests, he sighed happily. They really were quite good.
Galen heard a faint sound behind him. Soft music was playing through the speakers. Nav poured them another glass of lavé and he felt himself relax even more.
Go with it. It was what he’d wanted to happen from the instant he read the book.
Navojan cupped his face and kissed him gently, pausing to gauge Galen’s response. What he saw must have reassured him, because he pulled Galen closer and deepened the kiss, gently pushing him down on the couch and moving on top of him.
Galen closed his eyes as Nav ran his fingers down his shirt slowly, slipping his hands underneath as he made his way back up. He’d wanted this for so long. If he remembered right-
He did. Off came his shirt and Nav leaned in to kiss down his collarbone. He sucked on a particularly sensitive spot and Galen moaned in pleasure.
Nav moved to whisper in Galen's ear and he managed a nod. A blindfold was placed over his eyes and he sighed, relaxing more deeply.
I think you'll enjoy this more if you don't know what's coming next.
Ah, the irony. He knew exactly what would happen next.
Navojan gently removed his pants and ran his hands over the tiny briefs underneath. Galen arched into the touch, but Nav pulled back and instead led him to the bed at the far end of his quarters. Unable to see, Galen was a bit unsteady on his feet and gratefully sank into the soft mattress.
A moment later, he began to sweat copiously. Nav had turned up the heat. Literally.
He’d known it was coming, of course, but he wasn’t prepared for the intensity of the sensation. It was oddly pleasant. His muscles began to relax and beads of sweat trickled down his body.
He felt Navojan’s lips trace the drops, his tongue pleasantly cool on Galen’s hot skin. He moaned in pleasure as Nav licked the moisture from his neck and chest, swirling and stroking every inch of his torso until Galen was gasping, drowning in the sensations. Navojan’s tongue moved down. And further down. And still further. He removed the briefs and lifted Galen’s legs, settling between them. His hands squeezed Galen’s ass, mouth millimeters from his erect penis, and began licking behind the balls, moving up slowly until his tongue entered Galen’s opening, flicking deep inside. Galen shuddered.
After what felt like hours, he was ready to jump out of his skin. Somehow, in reading the steamy scene, he hadn’t realized just how long it would take to enact. His cock had gone from pleasantly heavy to positively aching and he felt like the slightest touch would set him off. Of course, Navojan’s hands stayed far away, focusing on his bottom, squeezing, stroking, occasionally pausing to tease with his tongue, pushing in and out of his hole, moving away each time he was close.
It was agony. He wanted to beg, plead, grab Nav’s head and bring it to his cock, but he forced himself to be patient. It felt good to let go of a little control, and after all, he knew how the fantasy would end. He shuddered in anticipation.
After what felt like an interminable amount of time, Navojan finally, finally moved his mouth to Galen’s throbbing cock, licking and sucking, and his orgasm came almost instantly. He shook for a full minute afterwards, and Nav held him tight, stroking his sides until he calmed. Galen was shattered; his head felt heavy and the heat was softly lulling him to sleep.
Service to the State: A literary seduction Page 4
